by Doug Farren
“Glish? You’re going to see Lashpa, aren’t you?” she said, her voice becoming harsher.
“I am,” Tom replied, carefully keeping the tone of his voice neutral.
“Paula invited you to breakfast,” she said, crossing her arms. “Why can’t you stick around long enough to take her up on her offer?”
Putting a hand on the side of her shoulder, he said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do sis, but I’m not looking for a relationship.”
She brushed his hand away like it was an insect. “Because you already have one!”
“What? I don’t have- - -”
“You’re in love with Lashpa, aren’t you?” she accused him, her voice rising.
“No! We’re just- - -”
“Honey,” John put a hand on her arm trying to intervene.
Cassandra shrugged him off, all her attention focused on her brother. Tom suddenly realized this issue must have been bothering her for some time. The look on John’s face only confirmed his suspicion.
“Bull!” Cassandra exploded. “I like her and all, but this thing between you two is unnatural. You need a woman in your life Tom–a human woman.”
Tom didn’t know what to say. He had no desire to get into an argument with his sister and in her current state he doubted he could change her mind.
“I had a great time today sis,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Let’s not ruin it now–okay? I’m going to be gone for a few weeks, maybe longer. I promise we’ll talk about this when I get back.”
At first, Tom thought she was going to continue the argument. She opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, then asked, “Promise?”
“I promise. Now give me a hug.”
John walked Tom out the door. As soon as they were out of earshot he said, “Sorry about that. A few of her more conservative friends have been talking to her about your supposed immoral relationship with Lashpa.”
Tom stopped and looked toward the house. Cassandra was watching from inside the screen door, no doubt knowing exactly what they were talking about. “What’s so immoral about two people being close friends?”
“She’s convinced herself that you’ve somehow fallen in love with Lashpa.” Raising a hand to fend off Tom’s protest, he continued, “I don’t care how you feel about her–that’s your business. But your sister’s gotten it into her head that you’ve become some sort of cross-species pervert. She wants to see you find a good woman, get married, and have lots of kids.”
Tom continued walking. “She has no idea what she’s talking about. Doesn’t she realize it’s a physical impossibility for Lashpa and I to become intimate? Her species doesn’t even view sex as we- - -”
John came to an abrupt halt. “Whoa! I didn’t say anything about sex.”
“But you implied it all the same. I haven’t settled down because I haven’t been in one place long enough. I’m a peacekeeper John. I can be on Earth one day and the next be on my way to the other side of Alliance space. I like women–human women. I’m not some weird pervert being subverted by a Rouldian mistress. I…”
Tom could feel his anger rising. He took a breath to calm himself before continuing. “Look… I just haven’t found the right person yet. When I do, she’s going to have to be pretty special given the lifestyle I live. Most peacekeepers don’t marry, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”
“I’ve tried to tell her something like that,” John said. “I think she needs to hear you say it though.”
They arrived at Tom’s tricycle. It was a large three-wheeled machine built to transport a human peacekeeper and another passenger if needed. A retractable, transparent dome could be raised over the passenger compartment to protect the occupants from the elements if needed. Sirens and bright flashing lights were mounted on the vehicle in various locations and could be used to clear the way through traffic.
“I’ll talk to her when I get back,” Tom said, climbing into the cycle. “Right now, I don’t think she’d be very receptive to anything I have to say.”
John extended a hand. “Have a safe trip,” he said as they shook.
“Thanks.” Tom looked toward the house. Applying a slight magnification to his vision allowed him to clearly see his sister still looking out the screen door. He stuck his hand up and waved. She waved back.
He pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road toward the small regional airport where his ship was grounded. Although the tricycle could easily drive itself, he kept it in manual. He passed a few people out walking, enjoying the evening’s warm weather and waved back when they stopped and waved at him. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as the tricycle locked into the lift. Tom rode it up into the ship then headed for the control center.
“We have clearance to lift,” the Orion said as he sat down. “Terran space control is aware of our departure.”
Taking manual control, Tom lifted his ship, paused a few meters off the tarmac to allow the landing struts to lock themselves home, then continued straight up into space. As the Earth shrank behind him, he couldn’t help but replay his last conversation with Cassandra. Echoes of the argument continued to reverberate in his head with a single phrase repeating itself over and over: ‘You’re in love with Lashpa.’
Chapter 4
Commander Choback was reviewing the end of day reports when he heard a light knock on the door of his room. Standing up, he raised his voice so it would carry through the thin metal and said, “Enter!”
The door opened and Zathkra, Choback’s supply officer, entered the room. “I read your report a few minutes ago,” Choback said as Zathkra closed the door behind him.
“That’s why I was coming to see you Commander,” Zathkra said. “I wanted to make sure you’re aware of our supply situation.”
“Your report was quite detailed,” Choback replied. “You do realize the risk involved every time we are forced to obtain new supplies?”
“I’m aware of the risks, Sir. But our last expedition returned with fewer consumables than I had anticipated.”
“I’ll be ordering the ships readied for another hunting trip,” Choback said. “This time, I’ll make sure we select a more appropriate target. One that will allow us to bring back far more supplies than the last hunt.”
“I’m sure the men will be pleased,” Zathkra replied. “Being forced to hide out on this barren ball of rock has not been easy on them.”
“Do you think I’ve been enjoying this?” Choback growled. Waving his arms around to emphasize his next point. “We’re living in caves like Turashag. If the men are unhappy, they’re more than welcome to pitch a tent on the surface.”
“I meant no disrespect, Group Commander.”
“We must all have patience,” Choback said. “Our people will find a way to break through the barrier. When that happens, I’ll be glad to lead the men into battle. But for now, we must wait.”
“There are some who disagree.”
The hair on the back of Choback’s head stood up and his claws slid into view. Locking eyes with Zathkra, he said, “Such people would be wise to remember their place.”
Zathkra responded to the challenge, the hairs on his neck and head stood up and his claws slid out of their sheaths. “I’m not here to challenge your authority,” he replied, trying to control his rising temper. “I’m merely pointing out the facts. The men are becoming restless. Some believe it would be better to die in battle than to hide out like a bunch of…” Zathkra took a deep breath then quickly exhaled and shook his head.
“We would accomplish nothing other than to die,” Choback said, calming himself down. “We might be able to destroy one or two of their ships but what would that accomplish? I’m in command and I will- - -”
A loud, rapid knock caused the Commander to whirl on his feet to face the door. He was still emotionally charged from the previous conversation and he automatically assumed an attack posture–his legs bent at the knee, his right arm held up ready to strike with cla
ws extended.
Growling in frustration, Choback forced himself to relax. “Enter!”
“I’m sorry to disturb you Commander,” Masthuma said as he pushed the door open. “We’ve made a discovery in the new tunnel.”
“What have you found?”
After carefully closing the door, Masthuma walked over to the Commander’s desk and set his data-pad down. Choback and Zathkra joined him. “We’ve encountered a large metallic object embedded in the stone,” Masthuma began. Pointing to the data-pad, he continued, “This is a detailed scan of the object.”
“It looks like some kind of support,” Zathkra said after studying the image for a few seconds.
“The ship’s computer has identified it as a glide rail,” Masthuma replied. “It’s hard to make out but the object is actually two rails with roller-bearings between them.”
“A glide rail?” Zathkra said. “I don’t understand.”
“One side remains fixed,” Masthuma explained. “The other is attached to the object you want to move. Like the slides on a desk drawer only much, much larger.”
“How did it get there?” the Commander asked.
Masthuma touched a button on the screen causing the image to be magnified and enhanced. Tracing a barely discernible line with his finger, he said, “This line indicates where the rock has been cut. Notice that it aligns perfectly with the two halves of the rail.” Pointing to another part of the image, he said, “These large spikes are the mounting bolts holding each half of the rail to the surrounding rock.”
“What’s it for?” Zathkra asked.
“The rail is enormous,” Masthuma began. “You can’t tell by looking at the image, but it’s at least one meter in width with roller bearings measuring nearly three centimeters in diameter. It extends toward the surface as well as deeper into the planetoid as far as the drone’s sensors can penetrate. Based on the angle of the rails, I believe they’re installed in a configuration that would allow a large plug of rock to be moved toward the surface.”
“Are you implying you’ve cut into the side of a giant hatch?” Choback asked.
“We arrived here over two years ago,” Zathkra said. “All of our scans have shown this planetoid to be barren with no signs of anyone having ever been here. How do you explain this?”
“Sir, I cannot,” Masthuma replied. “But the evidence seems to suggest we are not the first to visit this place.”
Zathkra pointed an accusing finger at the pad. “If it is some sort of plug, then how does one pull it out and where does it lead?”
Masthuma ignored Zathkra’s question and addressed Choback. “With your permission Group Commander, I’d like to use a drone to perform a detailed scan of the surface directly over the new tunnel. If it is indeed some sort of hatch, the drone’s sensors should be able to locate it.”
“Granted,” Choback replied. “Make sure you requisition the drone tonight. We’ll be leaving on another hunt tomorrow. I also want you to begin tunneling down through the door in an effort to see where it might lead.”
“I will begin immediately. The results of the scans will be available by the time you return.”
“Make sure you seal the new tunnel off from the rest of the base. If it really is a hatch, opening it will most likely expose the base to a vacuum.”
“A very wise precaution Commander. I’ll need to cut an airlock out of one of the captured ships. That’s going to take some time.”
“Would it help if you had more men?” Zathkra asked.
“Eight additional men would allow me to work around the clock with two teams.”
“Done.”
“I’ll expect a full report on your progress as soon as I return,” Choback said. “Dismisssed.”
Chapter 5
Rouldian: Reptilian species. Their home planet, Roulda, has a surface gravity 1.8 times stronger than Earth. Rouldians have large, triangular heads with two eyes spaced widely on either side near the top. A bony ridge runs up the middle of the forehead and continues along the back. Two arms jut out from the chest area. Adult Rouldian bodies average 3.5 meters in length and are supported by four stubby legs. Most of the body is covered in fine slightly iridescent scales. Females outnumber males by more than two-to-one. Rouldians mate for life with the male being the one who chooses his mate. If a mate is not found by the age of 23 or 24 the individual becomes sterile.
Tom’s brain was a confused mess by the time he was far enough out of Earth’s gravity well to engage his stardrive. So much so that his ship had taken notice. The AI briefly considered offering to help sort things out but decided against intruding on Tom’s internal deliberations. It knew it was often best to allow someone to solve such deep problems on their own. The Orion decided to remain silent and to simply listen in on Tom’s thoughts via the biolink.
Could his sister possibly be right? Did he, could he, love Lashpa? The more he thought about it, the more he realized the word meant too many things and could be interpreted in too many ways. He loved chess. People loved their pets. People love each other, often in many different ways and on many different levels. The word itself had too vague a meaning to be useful.
Given the context of his relationship with Lashpa and the broad meaning of the word, he decided that he did indeed love her. But it was not a love of passion. Even though they were of radically different species, they were compatible on so many levels that had they been of the same species they would most likely be considering marriage. But there could never be any intimacy between them—for many reasons. Explaining all this to his sister, however, was going to be a challenge.
Putting the problem out of his mind, Tom focused his attention on the present and began the process of setting a course for Glish. Although the Orion’s AI could accomplish the task far quicker, Tom preferred to do it himself every so often—most of it was automated anyway. A small course correction pointed his ship in the right direction. After double-checking his settings, he hit the initiate button and sat back.
The hum of the reactor increased as power was fed into the matrix field. Twelve seconds later, he felt the familiar sensation pass through his body as the main stardrive field formed, creating a bubble of artificial space around the ship. A few seconds later, the Orion had exceeded the velocity of light.
“If my calculations are right,” Tom told the ship, “we should be arriving at Glish in just under 16 days.”
“Calculations confirmed,” the ship replied. “Nicely done.”
“Thank you.”
Tom entered a quick sequence of commands into his master console and then began to speak, “Hi Lashpa! I have some good news. I’ve been promoted to a class-II. I’m also on my way to Glish and should arrive there in about 16 days. If at all possible, see if you can get a few weeks off so I can meet your family. It’s time we formally announced our status as gragrakch. See you soon.”
Tom touched a control then said, “Send it to Lashpa.”
“Message away. I’m sure your message will raise her spirits.”
“I certainly hope so,” Tom said. He paused for a minute as an unpleasant thought came to mind. “Oh crap,” he said.
“Is there a problem?” the ship asked.
“If I’m going to follow Rouldian tradition, my sister’s going to have to be there as well.”
“That may not be possible,” the ship replied. “The gravity on Fanish is considerably higher than Earth’s. I don’t think it would be a wise idea to invite her.”
Tom’s spirits rose then came crashing down again. “Lashpa’s family should still hear from her. I’m going to have to ask her to make a video,” he said.
“That could present a problem, given the fact she does not seem to approve of your relationship with Lashpa.”
“Are we still close enough for near real-time communication?”
“Round-trip time delay is four seconds.”
Taking a deep breath, Tom came to a decision. “Slow to 10c and call her house,” he ordered the
ship.
A minute later, John’s image appeared on the screen. “Tom!” he said as soon as the connection was made. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon. What’s up? Our connection isn’t very good. Where are you? There’s a note at the bottom of the screen saying there’s a 4 second time delay between us.”
“I’m in my ship heading out of the system. Even though we’re talking using an FTL link, there’s still going to be a delay. The distortion is caused by my stardrive fields interfering with my communications signal. Listen, I need to talk to Cassandra. Is she around?”
“Yeah. Hold on a sec.” John walked away. Cassandra, breathing heavily, appeared a moment later.
“I was in the back garden,” she said, without any preamble. “I’m glad you called Tom. I’m sorry for what I said about you and Lashpa. John and I talked about it. You have a right to feel any way about anyone you want.”
Tom was forced to mentally shift gears. He had to throw out everything he was about to say leaving him temporarily speechless. After collecting his thoughts he said, “There’s no need to apologize for speaking your mind. I’ve been thinking about what you said ever since I left your house and I came to the conclusion that you’re right.”
Cassandra wiped her forehead. The connection was not clear enough for him to see the huge beads of sweat running down her face. “About what exactly?” she asked.
“Let me ask you something, do you love your dog?”
The look on Cassandra’s face clearly expressed her dismay. “Of course I do! But Lashpa is not a dog.”
“Of course she isn’t,” Tom said. “That’s not the point. How about this—do you love your husband?”
Even through the distortion and the static Tom could easily see her shocked reaction. “Tom! What kind of- - -”
Smiling, Tom said, “Of course you do.” The time delay caused Cassandra to keep talking for another four seconds. Tom waited until he had her full attention. “The point I’m trying to make is that the word love can mean many things. You love your dog, you love John, and I’m assuming you love me. Same word, similar feeling, far different meanings.”
